The Bus Stop
by GoldenQuill7
Summary: Emmett meets three people at a bus stop. One is kind, one is proud, and one is a clot pole. All bring back memories that he never knew he had. Reincarnation oneshot for now, may expand a little more later.


A.N. Inspired by a plot bunny for something I kind of want to happen after the last episode, as a kind of 'Once and Future' epilogue.

Disclaimer: I wish Merlin was mine. Especially the knights. Oo-er.

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It wasn't a kind of day that agreed with Emmett. In a small way, his sunny disposition relied on weather of a similar nature, and London was currently under a barrage of fat, freezing raindrops. Pulling his brown coat more tightly around his skinny frame, he shuffled from foot-to-foot in time to the music currently playing through his headphones, hoping that the movement might bring some semblance of warmth to his chilly limbs. His breath was coming out in foggy puffs – _where is this damned bus? _

There were only two other people at his bus stop, both around his own age; a young man chatting on an expensive-looking phone, sporting a designer tracksuit and a distasteful expression which evidenced his opinions on public transport quite clearly; and a girl bundled up in a large coat, scarves and a woollen beret, reading intently and occasionally shooting annoyed glances at the former, when he became obnoxiously loud.

Emmett turned his back to the kerb to read the timetable, not paying any mind to the muffled sound of an approaching truck until he noticed the alarm on his fellow commuters' faces. He heard it roar past, and the splash, and he was suddenly drenched in what had once been a road puddle. Attempting to shake the water off, he swore impressively. It was a few moments before he noticed that the man was laughing at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," the blond chuckled, slipping his phone into a pocket "Just… Come on it's pretty funny."

"No, it's not, you prat!" Emmett had never used the word before, but it felt strangely natural on his tongue. The other man frowned, though his expression was still one of mirth.

"Not my fault you were enough of an idiot to get yourself splashed," he replied with infuriating smugness. The girl sitting next to him slammed her book shut, clearly glad to have an excuse to berate him.

"You're being incredibly rude, you know," she shot at him, and he blanched; though the words had not been strong, her scathing tone even made Emmett feel abashed. She turned to him then, and fished some tissues from her bag.

"Here, they're clean, you might be able to blot some of it off."

"Thanks, er…"

"Jennifer, but most people call me Jen," she smiled at him, before shaking his hand awkwardly as he used the other to take the proffered tissues.

"… _I'm the lady Morgana's maid."_

"Sorry, what did you say?" he let go of her hand suddenly, and she flexed her gloved fingers, looking a little dumbstruck.

"Nothing, I… What was your name, sorry?"

"Right. I'm Emmett, though some people just call me 'idiot'" he felt as though he had had this conversation before, in a long-forgotten memory. At the last comment, their unpleasant companion stood – he was almost as tall as Emmett, though far more muscular, clearly an athlete of some description.

"Look, _Emmett_," he drawled the name as though it were practised "Like I said, it isn't my fault you made a fool of yourself."

"You didn't have to be such a clot pole and laugh about it right in my face!" Emmett replied. His adversary's expression changed from defensive to puzzled.

"A what?"

"_Clot pole, he said clot pole"_

Emmett noticed Jen pressing her lips together very hard, clearly trying not to giggle. The clot pole in question was shaking with suppressed laughter, and he himself felt the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"Okay, that's enough," he said, resigned to smiling "We'll call it a truce… I'm assuming your name isn't actually clot pole."

The other man gave a loud, open laugh, which Jen clearly took as a sign to allow herself to do the same.

"No, my parents didn't hate me quite that much." He held out a hand "Arthur."

Emmett gripped Arthur's hand to shake it.

"_You know I always thought that if things had've been different, we'd have been good friends"_

"_Yeah"_

When he let go, Arthur was peering at him confusedly.

"Have we met before?" he asked, and Emmett shook his head.

"I don't think so…"

Just at that moment, a bus rolled up – it wasn't the one Emmett was waiting for, and neither Jen nor Arthur moved to board. A dark-haired young woman hopped off, toting a large suitcase.

"Jen!"

"Fay!"

The two hugged, babbling greetings and exclamations at each other's appearances as the bus rolled away. Emmett looked at Arthur, who was looking on grumpily, arms folded.

"It's alright, don't mind me, I'm just your favourite brother…"

"_Only _brother," Fay replied, feigning nonchalance before launching herself at Arthur, who finally smiled as he embraced her "Why didn't you come visit me in France?"

"Football. You know what dad's like about me missing games."

"Don't we all? Did you go to watch at all, Jen?"

"She has books she'd rather read, I'm sure," Arthur taunted, but then his tone turned sly "Then again, since Lachie joined the team, you seem to have developed a bit more of an interest,"

Jen had the grace to blush, as Fay squeaked and flailed a little. Jen diverted the conversation to Emmett.

"Fay, this is Emmett. We er… Only just met him. He got splashed by traffic and Arthur called him an idiot."

Fay shot her brother a disapproving look, and he shrugged. With a brief introduction, she inspected Emmett's sodden clothing, reaching out to touch the sleeve of his coat. Her skin touched his for an instant.

"_She is the darkness to your light…"_

"Did you say something?" she asked, recoiling, as Emmett shook his head.

"You must be overtired, Fay," Arthur suggested, picking up her heavy-looking suitcase with ease "Shall we go back to mine for a bit?"

"I don't know – is it clean?"

"_Spring cleaning!"_

"_It isn't spring, and it certainly isn't clean."_

Emmett exchanged a look with Arthur, though why, he could not say. He chalked it up to both being male, and therefore prey to the misconception that they were genetically programmed to be slovenly.

"Yes, it is. Lachie and Gav are actually there right now, you know what Lachie's like with mess, though knowing Gav, the place will be a bombsite by the time we get there… Eli and Leon are coming around later to watch the match tonight, too."

"You've convinced me," Fay grinned "You know I love my football… How many times did I used to beat you at one-on-one when we were little?"

"_That never happened!"_

"I'm still convinced you cheated," Arthur replied after a short pause "Emmett, if you want to join us, I have a heater you can sit in front of for a while… Unless you have somewhere to be?"

The three looked at him expectantly. He held up two still-dripping arms.

"Not like this, I don't. Is this your way of apologising?"

"You_ certainly know how to apologise!"_

"Consider it a gesture of goodwill," Arthur replied offhanded manner.

"My goodness, who are you, and what have you done with my brother?" Fay teased as they began to walk away from the bus stop.

"I was thinking the same," Jen raised her eyebrows at Arthur, who actually looked a little red around the ears at her gaze "You know what, Emmett, it must be destiny that we ran into you – Arthur's becoming a better person by the second!"

"Oh, ha ha ha," he grumbled "Who is letting you all crash his house out of the goodness of his heart again?"

As the banter continued, Emmett grinned at the sudden familiarity, these people reminding him of the kind of friendship he half-remembered from daydreams – and after all, who was he to argue with destiny?

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